The Perilous Hopes of the Doomed
by Lemonadeseas
Summary: The revolution failed; Sweetpea hopes her sister will be safe for the 125th Hunger Games. With the 5th Quarter Quell, who knows what will happen? Sweetpea learns she's worrying about the wrong things a little too late.


I got out of class early, sitting on the steps while waiting for daddy to take me home. I knew he struggled to get out of work early to walk me to the house. I wished I wasn't always in his way. I don't try to be. It just happens.

I saw his head of blond hair raising above all the others as he made his way down the cobblestones for me. It only took me a second to meet him halfway.

"Hello Sweetpea," he said. I could tell he was straining to stay cheerful for me. "How was class?"

I smiled broadly, showing off my gapped smile. "We made something, and I finally got to take it home!" I reached into my pack, pulling out a carefully wrapped package. I pulled away the fragile paper to reveal a small, pressed violet. "Adlee Stiles said mine was the best in the class!"

He tipped his head down to look at it, flashing me a weary smile. "That's quite nice, Sweet." I nodded solemnly, pausing for just a moment to wrap it back up to deposit back into my pack. A large man with a hunk of meat in his hands slammed into my side—I slipped to the floor with a soft cry.

No one seemed to notice; the market was much too busy. It was quite a shame that the school was in the center of such a crowded place. I understood why daddy was so reserved about me walking home.

Come to think of it, I couldn't see him any longer.

"Daddy!" I cried, pushing myself back to my feet. A shallow scrape ran across my palm from where I skidded on the stone. "Daddy!"

I knew the way home—after all, I walked it a few times a week with daddy to get to the school. And anyway, at nine years old, I felt mature enough to walk by myself. But I knew daddy would have a fit. I marched forward into the crowd, looking for the tall man with the dirty blonde hair.

I fell into him nearly accidentally. It took everything within me to keep from grabbing his arm and never letting go. Rather, I walked with him as though I had never stopped.

I didn't want to be more trouble than I already was.

"The Hunger Games are coming up," he said quietly, leaning toward me. I could feel his disapproval; he had never liked the Games, and made that clear through the ways he talked about them, even though he never said it straight out. "I know it's still going to be a few years until you're even old enough to be entered. Though you know what's special about this one. Don't you, Sweetpea?"

I nodded. "Fifth Quarter Quell."

"I don't know what that's going to mean for your sister. We have to be careful to stay on our toes—there might be a greater chance of her being picked. We need to stay strong for Marlous, no matter what. Do you promise?"

I nodded solemnly. Marlous was going to be in the drawing for her second year in the Hunger Games. Plus, she was taking out tesserae for us for the second year counting.

The Quarter Quells scared me. For the hundredth Quarter Quell, the drawing was limited to those without tesserae. I wouldn't have minded if that was this year's again, but I knew it didn't work that way. Which meant that Marlous was probably not safe.

When we got home, she was sitting by the table, head pressed against the rough wood slab. She clutched a smooth round stone I had given her a few months prior. We were convinced it was good luck.

"How was work?" Marlous asked quietly. She raised her head, shaking it to rearrange her messy blonde hair.

"It was grand," he said, the same way he does every day. "I think I inhaled a bit too much dust, though. I've been coughing all day. Those darned bricks, they're so poorly made."

She sighed. Daddy hated masonry, but there weren't many other options for a family like ours, especially not in District Two.

"Well girls," he said, trying to regain his previous perk. "You ought to get cleaned up, and make sure you get some sleep. Tomorrow we have to meet in the square for the choosing. I don't want my two best girls looking like a mess."

I smiled, though it was empty. We each only owned one good dress, and mine was a hand-me-down from Marlous. Daddy bought hers second hand in exchange for something, though he wouldn't tell us what.

After supper, we washed up and settled into our beds early. I couldn't help but worry about Marlous. I told myself she would be fine. Right?


End file.
